


Prelude

by KarboniteManeuver



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Gen, prompt, violent imagery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-31 02:47:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19416901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KarboniteManeuver/pseuds/KarboniteManeuver
Summary: Periodically the thread of self-control breaks, and you're left to clean up your own messes





	Prelude

He re-wrapped his knuckles, gingerly removing each layer of bandage. Blood crusted each layer of woven cotton together, forming an almost paper maché that threatened to dismantle the fledgling foundation of newly formed scabs.

The bathroom mirror reflected an attractive young man, his beauty uncanny even without the thin veneer of make up to mask the fledgling dark circles still lurking beneath his eyes. His jaw tightened unconsciously as he arranged the fresh layers of soft fabric, making quick work to apply antibiotic ointment to the precariously closed gashes across his knuckles, before the starts of ugly purple bruising and swelling were also hidden from view.

Like so much of himself, this truth would also be tucked politely beneath the surface, enveloped in butter soft black leather, hidden beneath just another layer to what was quickly becoming an 'idol' level persona. One more unpleasant facet repressed. So long as everything seemed picture perfect on the surface, no one would say anything— not that they would be clever enough to notice in the first place, not even when he'd appeared before them in Mementos, gun in hand. A lifted his head, the wry smile that didn't meet his eyes stared back at him in the mirror, his left hand involuntarily tightening into a fist that pulled against the fresh bandages at the sudden spark of anger that flared and roiled in his stomach.

A flash— the bathtub they had shared, open wrists and the essence of life force diluted over the edge into the rose colored water that soaked the floor... Months later and large hands around his throat, everything fading to black. It hadn't been the first time, and it most assuredly wouldn't be the last. Somehow the smaller, the 'weaker' always ended up as a repository for the pent up, impotent rage of those in positions of greater power. Somehow though, despite being able to feel his heartbeat throughout his body, each atom calling for it, ending up in juvenile detention for driving his scissors into his foster father's eye sockets while he slept hadn't seemed worth it. Especially not when the judicial system would have been stacked so strongly against him. 

He shook his head, pushing it away, sense memory leaving his throat tight, his mouth overly dry— the echo of Loki, claws dragging down the pulsating walls of his subconscious, a whisper, and something between a command and plea for release. Bile rose in its place, the burn of stomach acid looking for purchase. His good hand gripped the edge of the cheap, faux modern sink as he filled his mouth with water-- washing away the taste as if it would somehow be enough to purge anything else. 

Seconds ticked past, syncing his breathes with the count as he centered himself-- the back of his good hand coming to wipe away the few errant drops of water from around his mouth before he shifted back on task.

He disposed of the old bandage, collecting it into a small, discolored heap— evidence of his mask slipping, of the ‘Detective Prince’ being anything less than a the perfect, self-effacing, ascetic that he sold with each interview, further commodifying himself in the eyes of the public.

He tugged his gloves back on with a small wince, he was distantly aware of his phone vibrating, somewhere -- echoing against ceramic. It was probably Shido, expecting him to clean up some new mess for his hoard of pathetic cronies. Some hostess that wouldn't put out, that heaven forbid might tell one of their wives, some teen girl selling herself for pocket change... It was only a matter of time though, before he brought Shido down, dismantled the cloak of excuses they each wrapped themselves in, in turn.


End file.
